It would come and it would go—like landline 

phones and buffet bars where we piled 

our plates with scrambled eggs, snapped

selfies with Polaroids: A flash 

of self-preservation. And as it develops…

we discover a new liver-spot on our jugular. 

That’s how it is—

Watching the headlights trace shadow-puppets

on my bedroom wall—stuttering 

out dialogue the bunnies 

whisper to each other

before the Honda Accord rounds the bend

and I’m alone again—

But not for long…

“The X-Files” theme creeps up the stairs… 

becomes fodder for my nightmares. 

Much like ghost towns or the fantasy Atlantis—

Hollow where once was commerce…

“ALL things end.”

When he moved away, 

And there was no one there to fill his place—

I felt my heart crack and decay

Like a gap-toothed, grinning Jack O’Lantern

Taken by bombastic teens with baseball bats

in puffer jackets and homemade hats—

Out to the woods— out of the way….